


One Last Life

by moobloomsupremacy



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Dream Team SMP Spoilers, Fluff and Angst, Friendship/Love, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minecraft
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:26:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28006134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moobloomsupremacy/pseuds/moobloomsupremacy
Summary: George knew there was no way they'd all live forever.Three canon lives, that's all each of them got-- three chances to mess everything up and then start over again.But no matter how hard he tried, he had always held out the hope that maybe the three of them would play it safe.Oh, how wrong he was.- dream team / dream smp au with plenty of angst and the tiniest bit of fluff as a bandaid. hurt/comfort enthusiasts com get yall juice.- side project, inconsistent updates
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound/Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 24





	One Last Life

Three canon lives. That’s all they got. George knew the rules.  
He would think about it sometimes, curled up on his side underneath his warm blue blankets, safe in his house and just about to drift off into sleep. He would wonder how he’d use them. 

Back then, when their land was full of trees and animals and green grass, the great wilderness untouched by their human hands, three seemed like a big number, and death like the pale glow of an ocean monument, ever so far below his wooden boat, the waves of George’s life. It was almost laughable, the idea that he might feel Sapnap’s sword through his stomach, and not wake up seconds later back home, clutching his chest and laughing so hard the others can hear him all the way across the plains. It just didn’t make sense.

George had asked Dream about it, once. They were sitting side-by-side on the roof of their newly built house, watching as Sapnap glided through the lake below, setting down the cobblestone foundations of his own underwater abode, after a heated debate the previous day concerning personal space. It was a moonlit night, but the sky was so full of stars and delicate wisps of cloud that George could barely see the great silver orb shining down. 

Dream was beside him, long legs dangling over the edge of the brick wall, and to George’s surprise, he had taken his mask off— a rare and very welcome occurrence. His pointed nose and fluted chin gazed, not at their friend in the water, but at the unblinking sky. George took a moment to stare, drinking in the sight of his friend’s dimly lit, freckled face, saving it to memory. The air was cool, and there was no wind. George wondered what Dream could be thinking about.

His question was answered, a few seconds later, with one of Dream’s own.  
“What are you looking at?”  
George’s gaze immediately dropped back to the lake, ears burning a little. He was thankful for the dark. “Nothing,” he muttered. “The sky is nice.”  
“Yeah,” Dream hummed, smiling a little too knowingly for George’s liking. He leaned to the left, nudging the man with his shoulder. “Whatcha thinking about? Sapnap’s taking his sweet time, we could have, like, an actual conversation for once.”

George liked the idea. There was, in fact, one thing, that he had been wondering ever since Dream had brought it up a few weeks prior, after the three of them had finally settled in their quiet lake house. He took a deep breath, hands toying with the edge of his blue jumper.  
“What does ‘canon’ mean?”

A crease appeared between Dream’s eyebrows. “What?”  
“You know…” George felt even more embarrassed, the pink heat in his ears spreading to the tops of his cheeks. “Three canon deaths. I didn’t want to ask before, because I know it sounds stupid, but I honestly don’t know what that means.”  
Dream made a soft noise of comprehension. “It’s not stupid, George,” he reassured the man. “I didn’t get it either, when the Librarian explained it to me.” He took a deep inhale. George realized what he had just gotten himself into. He shifted uncomfortably, running a hand through his hair and chewing on his bottom lip.

“It’s, it’s like,” Dream stuttered, mouth moving silently as he grasped for the right words, “it’s like when dying is really important. Like,” his voice grew a bit stronger as he found an example to use, “like when Sapnap stabs you as a joke, or something, that’s just for fun, right? It doesn’t, like, mean anything.” Dream’s hands moved wildly through the air, drawing out invisible diagrams in his effort to help George understand.  
“But if it does, say, like, we go to the End and fight the Dragon--”  
“Never gonna happen--”  
“I know, dude, I’m just pulling something out of nothing--”  
“Alright, carry on--”  
“If that happened, and the Dragon launched you into the void, that would be important, right?”

George hummed. He was listening, of course, but Dream’s words were painting a new scenario in his head: of the three of them, swords drawn, running at the legendary beast in a blaze of power and glory. It was a cool picture. He imagined Sapnap’s victorious yells, Dream’s cloak flapping heroically in the wind as he gave the final, almighty swipe of his blade.  
“Yeah,” he said suddenly, “yeah, that would be pretty important.”

“Then you would lose a life.” Dream’s shoulders relaxed, glad that George was picking up his meaning. “So you’d have two left.”  
George nodded slowly. “Okay…I get it now.” He wasn’t one hundred percent sure that was true. “How do I know how many deaths I’ve got left?”  
Dream smiled ruefully, running a hand through his shaggy hair. From below them came a gasp of air, and splashing, then the sound of their home’s door opening. Neither George nor Dream looked down.

“We… we don’t.” George’s neck snapped to look at Dream. The muscles in the younger man’s jaw clenched as he felt the weight of George’s stare settle upon him.  
“I asked the Librarian,” he elaborated, “and they said we don’t know we’re on our last life until… until we die. Actually die, I mean.” He grabbed his roughly hewn wooden mask from where it lay discarded on the roof, and slipped it back on. George felt a trickle of regret run through him. He wished he’d never asked.  
“Let’s talk about something else, then.”

A strong hand clasped George’s where it lay at his side. His eyes flicked downwards in disbelief, and he saw Dream give him a melancholy smile.  
“Actually, I’m gonna head to bed. Can’t have a cranky Sapnap while we try and fight creepers in the mines tomorrow.”  
George kept his voice even, nonchalant. “Yeah, of course. Lead the way.”  
They said their goodnights and headed off to their own rooms in their shared house, but George lay awake for hours afterward, replaying Dream’s words over and over in his head.

Three canon lives. Three chances to royally screw everything up, and then it would be all over, forever.  
George considered himself: he was a cautious person, right? From now on, he thought, I’ll have to be.  
His last thought before the tide of sleep pulled him under was not of death or dragons, but of Dream’s face as he watched the heavens slowly turn above them, eyes twinkling with million-years old starlight that will never have to worry about fading away.

He dreamt about living forever, about his friends and the stupid games they always played, about Sapnap’s snarky comments about his height and Dream’s wheezy laugh. That was what he dreamed about back then, before the idea of Dream hunting him down left him flushed in cold sweat, with a sour taste in his mouth. In the days after he learned what it meant, George grew accustomed to the idea that he might not live forever, like he’d always assumed he would. But he didn’t let himself dwell on the future; instead ensuring that every step he took was a little firmer, every turn of his head and swing of his sword was done with a little more caution. The weight of the steel blade was a little more concrete in his hand.

The world awaited them, three soulmates who had found their home in a quiet forest, far away from the hustle and bustle of the world, the village of their childhood. George was sure that no stupid canon lives could mess it up for them. After all, they each had three.  
At least, he thought they all did.


End file.
